


Rain

by Ruenis



Series: Aldnoah.Zero Domestic One-shots [3]
Category: Aldnoah.Zero (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen, One Shot Collection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-08
Updated: 2016-07-08
Packaged: 2018-07-22 06:57:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7424602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ruenis/pseuds/Ruenis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I didn't think the first time I'd actually go to your house would be during a storm.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rain

When Inaho finds the blond standing at the school gate completely soaked, he is alarmed. But then when he approaches Slaine slowly, and extends his umbrella, he finds that Slaine is perfectly fine, if only soaked. “Slaine, why are you standing out in the rain?” he asks, looking agitated now.

_I thought you were.._

“I'm waiting,” Slaine says easily, cocking his head in confusion at that new look on Inaho's features. “Her meeting should be finished soon.”

“You could have waited under the awning at the front entrance,” Inaho points out, glancing downward a bit when he sees Slaine adjust his bag.

The blond has a black shirt under his uniform, and it is sticking to him like glue.

_He must've been waiting out here for at least an hour.._ Inaho realises, sighing quietly. “Let me take you home.” He adjusts the umbrella again, so that it is covering both of them as they stand side-by-side now, shoulders somewhat touching. Only Inaho's shoes and the hems of his pants are drenched, thanks to the slowly rising water level and the puddles spread about.

“Ah, no, that isn't necessary,” Slaine says, shaking his head, “She'll be out soon.”

“I meant _my_ home. You need to take a warm bath and get changed before you catch a cold.”

Slaine blinks at that, shock flickering across his features. “Are you serious?”

“You said, ' _ask me next month_ ',” Inaho points out innocently, “It's been a month.”

Groaning inwardly, Slaine's gaze flickers toward the school, where most of the windows are still lit and a few students are visible wandering the halls.

“You know her club meetings run long. And today, I heard they would be staying for a bit longer to assist some other clubs with their activities and cleaning up,” Inaho says softly, gesturing to the sidewalk in front of them, “Let me walk you home. I'll give you a change of clothes and then Yuki-nee can drive you home once she gets home. I won't ask you to stay any longer than that. Is that acceptable?”

Slaine sighs, and nods just once. “I didn't think the first time I'd actually _go_ to your house would be during a storm.”

 

 

 

“Stay here. I'll go get you a towel,” Inaho says when they finally get inside, after he removes his shoes. He hangs the umbrella on a silver hook on the wall, a bucket already under it to catch the water, and sets his bag down on a small table before walking away.

It took a bit longer to get home than usual, no thanks to the puddles they had to avoid and the cars that would occasionally almost drench them when they sped past.

Slaine only nods at that and starts removing his socks and shoes; he has a Western styled apartment, but he does know most of the rules and etiquette regarding Japanese homes. Inaho might not show it, but he would probably be upset if he walked around the house tracking water everywhere. He takes the chance to look around, listening to the sound of rain outside and the quiet drops of his own hair dripping water onto the mat under his feet.

Inaho's home is.. surprisingly normal. Probably thanks to that sister of his, whom Inaho only speaks about in the best of terms. He has only met Yuki a few times, after school, and despite being overly energetic, _she seems nice_ _,_ Slaine supposes.

There are not very many pictures hanging or sitting around, and the few that are visible are of only scenery. No people. More than a few candles sit upon what tables Slaine can spot, all of different colour, and he assumes scent as well. Thankfully, they are not lit. Other than the candles, there does not seem to be much else littering the house. The floor is clean, spotless, even. It must have been cleaned recently.

Before Slaine can peer into the living room, Inaho returns, a large, white towel in hand as promised.

“Thank you,” Slaine murmurs, taking it and immediately starting to dry himself off.

“Thank you for removing your shoes,” Inaho says, seeming pleased. He watches quietly as Slaine dries himself off as best he can, and then gestures behind him, “The bathroom is straight down the hall, the last door on the left. If you call for me when you're done undressing, I'll put your clothes in the dryer, and bring you a new set.”

Slaine visibly tenses, frowning at that. “Erm..what about.. my erm, my undergarments? You can't..” His face goes red in a mixture of embarrassment and fluster, and he presses the towel to his cheek, as if attempting to cool it back down.

“I know I can't share those. I understand the health risks. I'll bring you yours as soon as they're done drying. They should dry faster than your actual clothing.”

Slaine nods somewhat, cheeks still red. “Thank you..” he mumbles, looking sort of relieved now, “I.. erm.. thank you..”

 

 

 

Inaho presses the buttons on the dryer, listening to it beep quietly as he adjusts the settings.

_High temperature. Most dry.. half an hour._

He raises his head when he hears the water turn on, and turns the dryer on before walking away.

Slaine should be done by the time the clothes are done drying.

Hopefully.

 

 

 

When Inaho hears the water turn off, he sets his magazine down and gets up from the kitchen table, quietly making his way toward the bathroom. He had chosen some clothing that he assumed might fit the blond, and had folded it and left it on the floor beside the bathroom door. He picks them up and knocks at the door, “Slaine?”

“Ina-..”

They both freeze when Inaho opens the door a bit sooner than he should have.

Inaho's gaze immediately slips to Slaine's chest, the only thing out of place with his otherwise fine body. “Oh,” is all he can manage, the gasp slipping out with a shaky exhale.

Scars mar his skin, long scars that cannot in no way be possibly self-inflicted. His arms look fine, the scars only seeming to mar his..

“ _Oh_ ,” Inaho breathes, gaze flickering to the mirror.

His back, too. Marred with long scars, pink and brown mixing with what should be only white. The pink scars look less agitated, and are shorter than the lighter brown ones that sink into Slaine's skin. They are also in greater number than the brown ones; there are more pink scars on his back than his chest. They do not look new, none of them, but that just means..

“Sl.. Slaine..?” Inaho asks, his voice coming out far softer than he had intended; he had meant to stay composed, stoic.

Slaine slowly starts to regain his composure and starts to shake his head, taking a clumsy step backward. “D.. don't,” he whispers, his own voice shaky, bottom lip trembling.

Inaho does not realise the clothes have slipped from his hand when he places it on the door frame, his attention focused on the blond. “Who did that..–” he starts to ask.

“Get out,” Slaine hisses, voice practically seething with disgust.

The emotion does not register.

“Slaine, who _did_ that to..–”

“Get out! Get out, _get out_ _,_ _ **get out**_ _!!_ ” Slaine yells, shoving himself against the door.

It slams, _loudly_ , and he hears Inaho stumble in the hallway on the other side, body hitting what he guesses is the wall.

He falls down himself seconds later, melting into a fetal position, towel too tight on his waist, too loose at his knees when he pulls them against his chest, head already starting to ache because it hit the door _far too roughly_ _._

_I can't see.._

Seconds later, he finds tears slipping from his eyes, too hot, too salty on his lips.

_It stings._

“A-ah..” The exhale is shaky, weak, and –

_Why?_

 

Inaho sits on the floor, brown eyes wide as he clasps a hand to his head.

He realises that emotion from before had been ' _self-loathing_ '.

 

 

 

Inaho is silent when Slaine finally comes out of the bathroom after a near hour, dressed in the clothing Inaho had dropped in the bathroom on accident: a large sweater and some baggy pants Calm had bought for him last year. Inaho is sitting in the living room on the floor, his back pressed against the sofa's side. He keeps his head down as Slaine approaches him, gazing pointedly at the magazine in his hands.

Slaine stops just a foot from the brunet.

“I want to go home.”

“My sister will..–”

“I want to go home _now_ ,” Slaine interrupts, voice forceful, laced with that same self-loathing from before.

Inaho raises his head, then.

And finds himself near speechless at the hurt, guilty expression on Slaine's features. Slaine's teal eyes are rimmed red and puffy and are still full of tears. Even his lips look irritated, bothered by the salty tears and Slaine's repeated failure to wear chapstick.

_That expression doesn't suit him at all._

Standing up slowly, Inaho sets the magazine down on the sofa's arm and gazes at the blond, his own expression hard to read.

“I want to go home,” Slaine repeats for a third time, his voice shaky now, weak, “ _Please_ _._ ”

Inaho stays quiet for just a moment more, realising that Slaine will not react violently if he does not push him. _So.. rather than pushing him.._ Shoulders dropping, Inaho relaxes his body, brown flickering between teal and the kitchen. “Instead of me walking you home right now..” he says, keeping his own tone low and as gentle as he can manage, “.. I will be completely silent and ask nothing if you just stay here until Yuki-nee gets home. And then she will take you home.”

Slaine visibly hesitates at the offer, gaze slipping to the floor.

Inaho's gaze slips too, but to Slaine's hands instead, which are balled up into tight fists. His nails are probably digging into his palm, another tactic to keep the tears in his eyes from slipping.

_As he is right now, he won't calm down.._

“I have a slice of cake in the fridge – chocolate cake, with whipped cream and chocolate frosting. And I have vanilla ice cream that you can add to it, if you'd like. You can eat that while we watch the science channel. Apparently, they're going to run some specials explaining how stars are born and such,” Inaho offers, voice still low and gentle. He gestures to the sofa, “I'll turn it on for you.”

He hears Slaine exhale shakily, and slowly raises his gaze to find tears slipping from the blond's eyes.

“Okay,” Slaine whispers, nodding just once, “Okay.”

And suddenly, 'okay' seems like the best word in the world.

 

 

 

“.. full term is 'pulsating radio star'. A pulsar is a star that emits electromagnetic radiation in the form of a beam, and is highly magnetized. Some of these stars have a wind that surrounds them; the wind is made up of charged particles, usually left over from supernovas..”

Inaho sits silently beside the blond, hugging a pillow loosely to his chest. He has barely moved, in an attempt to keep from startling Slaine or upsetting him, and has not uttered a word, as per his promise.

Slaine has calmed down considerably, having finished his cake a half an hour ago. Now, he is leaning somewhat against the brunet, looking exhausted. His teal eyes are only half-open, and he cannot pay proper attention to the TV.

The brunet allows his gaze to slip downward, and finds Slaine on the verge of falling asleep. _Crying must be tiring.._ he figures, glad that Slaine has finally managed to calm down.

“Pulsar stars are formed when a star's core is compressed during the event of a supernova, collapsing the star into a neutron star..”

“.. do you.. think they're.. they're pretty..?”

Slaine's soft, barely audible voice catches Inaho off guard; the brunet finds himself tensing up, though seemingly not enough to cause Slaine to pull away from him.

“The stars.. do you think.. that they're nice to.. to look at?” Slaine asks again, voice still soft, albeit a bit slurred and slow.

Inaho hesitates, wondering if Slaine _wants_ him to answer, or if he is just asking rhetorically.

“I think.. they're beautiful.. They shine, and..”

_It was rhetorical._

“.. they're.. really..”

Slaine's voice trails off, slurring as he eventually goes silent. His breathing slowly evens out, and his weight against Inaho's shoulder increases; he has fallen asleep.

The brunet waits for a few minutes before adjusting himself, not having realised Slaine is heavier than he looks; he gently places a pillow between them, and hopes that his left side will not fall asleep with Slaine's full weight now against him. His gaze flickers downward slightly, and he finds himself wondering if the puffiness and redness in Slaine's eyes will disappear tomorrow, if his swollen lips and cheeks will return to normal.

_That expression really didn't suit him._

 

 

 

Shutting the door softly behind herself, Yuki immediately starts to remove her shoes and sets them down beside another two pairs resting on a towel –

_Two pairs? Nao doesn't have two pairs,_ she realises after a second, gazing at the other pair of shoes. They look a bit newer, and given Inaho has not grown recently, he has not gotten another school pair himself in a year. _A guest, then,_ she thinks, _Nao must have a guest.._ _but he didn't say anything.._ She slips on a pair of slippers, ears picking up the somewhat quiet sounds of the television. Walking toward it, Yuki finds Inaho sitting on the sofa, though in a different position than normal. He is off centre, and the pillow that usually sits near the armrest is gone. She approaches the sofa quietly, stopping once she sees that Slaine is lying down, using Inaho's side as a pillow. He has an orange blanket over him, and appears oddly at ease.

“I'm home,” she says after a moment, realising they did not hear her enter.

Slaine tenses up while Inaho raises his head.

“Welcome home,” Inaho says quietly, voice still as quiet as it had been before.

“I didn't know we had a guest,” Yuki says, smiling somewhat at the two. Inaho talks about Slaine often enough for her to gather that the blond is quiet, intelligent, and has a sweet tooth. Other than that, she knows he is a foreigner just by his looks, and that he is adept at Japanese; she heard him speaking once to Nina and Inko, and he seemed to have no issues keeping up.

Sitting up slowly, Slaine turns his head to look at her, and freezes up once more.

Yuki is wearing a police officer's uniform; gun, baton, badge, talkie and all. Her hair is hidden by her hat, which is covered in small water droplets, though her shirt and vest seem to be safe from water.

Inaho stays quiet, gaze flickering between the two. _H_ _e looks surprised,_ he muses, setting the pillow Slaine had been using back into its normal position against the armrest, _I guess I forgot to mention her occupation._

Slaine looks away after a moment, settling his eyes on the small table in front of the sofa.

“.. Yuki-nee,” Inaho finally says, “Will you drive Slaine home?”

“Sure,” Yuki agrees easily, “I'll get changed and we can go.”

 

 

 

“Your bag,” Inaho offers softly when Slaine approaches the entrance to his apartment building. He holds it out, having kept it beside him in the car, and watches as Slaine carefully takes it from him.

It has finally stopped raining; the faint sounds of water dripping from the apartment's awning keep it from being silent, as well as the calls of owls and chirps of crickets. The sky is still dark, however, muddied with dark clouds that seem heavy with more rain; the moon is hidden from view.

Slaine starts to dig though his bag, seemingly searching for something. He has not said a word since waking up a few hours ago; it seems that though he has calmed down since then, he is still in shock. Still, he has not yet gone inside, and has not asked Inaho to leave yet.

“.. I think they're beautiful,” Inaho murmurs after a minute, watching Slaine tense up as he pulls something out of the bag: a key.

“Wh.. what is?” Slaine asks, gripping the tiny silver thing probably a bit more than he should; the brunet's sudden comment startled him. He freezes upon Inaho only offering him a gentle, patient smile, his throat going dry. “What is?” he repeats, voice a bit uneven.

Inaho shakes his head slightly, refusing to elaborate.

Slaine's mind drifts to earlier, when he had been half-asleep. He had been asking Inaho about the stars.. right? His memory is foggy, but he thinks he must have been talking about them, since they were watching the science channel. _The stars?_ he wonders, _Is he talking about the stars?_ He pushes the thoughts away for now, stepping closer to the door. “About.. today..” he says, sounding unsure of himself, “What happened..–”

“Is my fault and it will never happen again,” Inaho whispers, causing the blond to gaze at him in surprise, teal eyes wide. “I should have knocked,” he admits, still calm, though his voice is laced with underlying guilt, “I won't ask. And you don't have to tell. I won't discuss the matter any further if you don't want to.” He pauses, brown eyes flickering between Slaine's bag and the apartment building. “I understand you have things you don't want to talk about. I will not say anything to anyone. But.. if you _ever_ need someone to talk to, then..” He trails off, gesturing to the car.

_You're welcome anytime._

Slaine exhales, and again it is shaky and weak, but this time, is full of relief. He smiles as best he can, eyes filling with tears. “Thank you,” he murmurs.

Inaho only nods and politely waves. “Goodnight, Slaine.”

Slaine turns to the door and starts to pull it open, the key to his room still in hand.

“I think they're beautiful,” Inaho repeats, causing Slaine to turn and look at him. Once more, he has that patient, gentle smile on his lips. A rare smile. “And I'm not talking about the stars.”

 


End file.
